HAILING FREQUENCIES OPEN
by Ann3
Summary: Set after Alienated, and following on from In Safe Hands, Jesse returns to work after his abduction and, it seems, everything is fine...


HAILING FREQUENCIES OPEN

Written by Ann Rivers ann.rivers@virgin.net

Completed 13 June 2001

Summary : A sequel, of sorts, to In Safe Hands.

Jesse returns to work after his abduction and everything's fine. Or is it…?

Spoilers: Alienated

Disclaimer : Diagnosis Murder and its characters belong to CBS and Viacom.

No profit is being made from their use here and no infringement of copyright is intended

He'd been quiet since they'd left Los Angeles. Unnaturally, but understandably, quiet. More interested in watching the passing scenery or pretending to be asleep than joining in their usual playful banter.

At first it hadn't really bothered him. It was, after all – and as his father had said – still early days. After what he'd just been through, no one could seriously expect Jesse to just bounce back and act as though it had never happened.

The problem was, as everyone now sadly realised, Jesse had tried to do just that. 

In the sheer relief that he was not, as he'd wryly recalled, going bug eyed nuts,

he'd thrown himself back into his work with a zest and enthusiasm that would have fooled most people.

Except Mark, Steve and Amanda knew him a whole lot better than most people – 

each so proud of their young friend, so grateful and relieved that he was finally safe. At the same time, though, all three had become increasingly concerned that Jesse's recovery wasn't quite as genuine as it seemed.

They could see it in his eyes, hear it sometimes in telltale catches in his voice. 

Beyond the jokes about where were Mulder and Scully when you needed them, 

they knew the old and much missed Jesse Travis was still dying to get out.

Steve Sloan winced, in frustration and anger at how close to home that thought was. 

He knew from his own, raw experience that almost losing your life was bad enough, without almost losing your sanity at the same time.

The physical scars were more or less gone now, the cuts and bruises barely noticeable.

The mental scars, though… well, they were proving to be a lot more stubborn.

Of the four of them, no one had tried harder than Jesse himself to heal those scars. 

Perhaps too hard, Steve mused – his insistence to return to work typically brave but, with the advantage of hindsight, sadly unwise.

At first he'd seemed fine, happy to deal with anything the ER could throw at him.

Then the nightmares set in, fuelled by not knowing what his captors had done to him.

As the days passed, tempers had become increasingly frayed between him and Steve,

with neither of them knowing why or, more alarmingly, what to do about it.

Mark's solution, that the best place to find their answers was where it had all started, 

had sounded crazy. But then, desperate times…

So now they were heading back to the mountains, back to where it had all began.

And what wouldn't Steve Sloan give to hear the non stop chatter which Jesse had subjected him to the first time around, rather than this increasingly frustrating silence.

Returning to the present, Steve took a deep calming breath to settle himself down – yet another sidelong glance finally easing some of his concern.

Lulled by the gentle movement of the car and the sun's warmth on his face,

Jesse had drifted into a genuine sleep, deeply enough for him to dream without terror.

He was even smiling now, just a little – his face calm, peacefully untroubled.

Steve was smiling too, a lot happier now as he drove on towards the mountains.

Cloudless blue sky, the sun bright and hot on his face - and Jesse was smiling.

Things were looking up…

Jesse was still happily lost to the world when Steve pulled up outside the cabin.

And while relieved to see his friend enjoying such sound, much needed rest,

Steve knew he had no choice but to wake him.

It took several gentle shakes on his shoulder, but eventually Jesse stirred –

meeting Steve's amused grin with a sleepily puzzled frown as he looked around.

"Here already…?" he yawned, an earlier agreement prompting a rueful smile.

"So much for sharing the driving…"

Strongly tempted to tease him, but not sure if he dared to just yet, Steve just grinned.

"You can drive us home…" he said, studying Jesse's face for any telltale reaction –

breathing a silent sigh of relief as Jesse nodded in just as amiable agreement.

Unplanned it may have been, but that sleep had clearly done him a power of good.

The eyes that held his were calm, steady - the smile easier than it had been for days.

Jesse too seemed to sense the change, his eyes still steady as they settled on the cabin. 

His ordeal had started here. Now, one way or another, that same ordeal would end. 

"Okay…" he said quietly, taking a deep breath before reaching for his bags.

"Let's do this…"

Taken a little aback, Steve then grinned back at him and nodded in proud approval – 

the smile fondly widening as he turned around to pull his luggage from the back seat.

Amongst their supplies (enough to feed half a full size army or one pint size doctor)

was a peace offering that could only have come from Jesse. 

Beer - his favourite brand, to boot. And lots of it. 

Oh yes, he thought in relieved anticipation, things were definitely looking up.

If Jesse's new found optimism was a good sign, the same went double for his appetite.

Having devoured his own meal, he still had enough room to scavenge for leftovers –

that wheedling smile proving too much for a helplessly laughing Steve to ignore.

Now, curled up in front of a roaring fire, he was the study of drowsy contentment.

So when Steve left him to make the coffee and returned to an empty room, 

he couldn't help but feel a twinge of panic. It was like two weeks ago all over again. There was something else too, something which he couldn't put his finger on but which was still bugging him as Steve followed his instinct and hurried outside –

anxiety giving way to exasperation and finally relief at finding Jesse on the porch.

He was sitting on the seat, arms around his knees, staring up into the starlit sky.

Steve couldn't help but think how vulnerable he looked as he came to sit beside him.

Even so, Steve knew better than to smother his friend or badger him into opening up. 

Young he may have been and… well, yes, with an uncanny knack for finding trouble.

Single too, the perfect target for the mothering type. 

Anyone who tried to do so, however… well, they were wasting their time. 

No one, not friends or family, not even his own mother, coddled Jesse Travis.

Except Amanda, of course, who'd somehow been allowed to reorganise his kitchen – and only then, Steve thought wryly, because Jesse dared not argue. 

Not only that, but young Dr Travis had a stubborn, independent streak a mile wide – 

best handled, as Steve had soon learned, as casually as possible.

"Jess…?" he finally asked, wryly thinking he couldn't get more casual than that.

Jesse's response was just as neutral - a smile, the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

"I just needed a little air…" he said at last, puzzled as he glanced up at his friend – 

the smile fading slightly as he understood the cause of Steve's patient expression. 

"Oh, I - I guess you didn't hear me…" 

To his surprise, not to mention relief, Steve just grinned and winked back at him.

"Remind this old guy to get his hearing checked when we get back…" he replied, 

never more grateful to see Jesse laugh – even if it was at his own expense.

Laughing himself now, Steve then nodded upwards to a now dazzlingly bright moon.

"Besides…" he added softly, "I can't fault you for that… not with a sky like this…"

His young friend just nodded, thoughtful for several moments before he spoke again.

"Even before all this happened… well, I always kind of wondered if ET was really… well, you know… really out there somewhere…" he said at last, his words hesitant - 

as if slightly embarrassed by such an outlandish idea.

Steve, though, was nodding once more, in both understanding and agreement.

"Me too…" he admitted, pointing up to where the Milky Way trailed above them.

"I mean, just look at all those stars, Jess… think of all the planets out there…

all the civilizations…" Thinking for a moment, he then smiled and shrugged.

"Who knows, maybe the scientists are right… that's where we're really from…"

"A lot more romantic than evolving from some slimy pool of algae…" Jesse agreed.

His smile, though, hadn't quite reached his eyes – and Steve had already guessed that the shiver he'd felt run through Jesse's body wasn't entirely due to the chill night air.

"Easy, Jess… it's okay, it's all over… they can't hurt you now…" he said softly, placing a protective hand on Jesse's shoulder – feeling at least a little happier when, 

instead of flinching away, Jesse actually seemed to welcome the contact.

"I just wish I could remember what they did to me, Steve…" he whispered at last - fear and anger in his voice as he added bitterly, "Maybe I'm as well not knowing…"

Hugging Jesse gently closer, Steve just nodded, not trusting himself to speak -

at least, not till the still raw images of Jesse's bruised and battered face left his mind.

He was starting to understand his father's reasoning that they both returned here.

Jesse wasn't the only one who had to find answers to some very difficult questions.

Steve had also finally placed what had been bugging him throughout Jesse's ordeal.

Guilt, he now realised – his stomach churning as those images still haunted him.

The same guilt that he'd felt as he'd watched Jesse being rushed into trauma –

the memory of three weak, damning words causing him to physically wince.

__

"You left me…"

And there it was – the fact that, until now, he couldn't bring himself to admit.

The horrific ordeal that had nearly cost his best friend his life was down to him –

all for the sake of a lousy crate of beer…

Finally that guilt burst out of him in a sudden, totally uncharacteristic curse –

so unexpected, and with such ferocity that he could feel Jesse start with surprise.

"Damn it…!"

Recovering himself, Steve met startled, concerned eyes with a tense, terse smile.

"I'm sorry, Jess…" he sighed, shaking his head - wondering what the hell to say next.

__

The _truth_, he realised, increasingly uncomfortable under those gentle, quizzical eyes.

__

The simple truth, short and sweet. That's the least I owe him…

"I should have been there, Jesse… I should never have left you…" he said at last - breathing deep and slow for some moments, regaining control, before adding softly, "If not for me and my lousy taste in beer, none of this would have happened…"

Jesse was still staring at him – the expressive face, for once, totally unreadable.

Then his eyes changed, disbelief flashing through them as realisation dawned.

"Oh God, Steve, is – is that why we've had to come up here…?" he asked at last.

"Is that what's been bugging you all this time…? You think I'm mad at you…?"

Perhaps he was imagining it, but Steve thought he could hear a smile in that voice.

When he finally looked up, he was totally astonished to find just that –

a slight, if rather concerned, surprisingly gentle smile.

Hardly the reaction he'd expected - and one that he wished he could accept.

But facts still had to be faced before he could do so.

"I left you, Jess…" he said quietly, taking a deep breath as he shook his head.

"You said it yourself when we brought you in… I left you…"

"I did…?" Jesse looked thrown for a moment, then groaned as he understood.

After a few moments thought, however, the smile returned – albeit a little sheepishly.

"Steve, when the HP found me it was close to ninety degrees…" he said at last,

gently shaking Steve's arm to make sure he had his friend's full attention.

"I could have been lying in that heat for hours before I came round, maybe longer.

So for a start I'd have been dehydrated, maybe even had a touch of heat stroke.

Add to that whatever Trask's goons had been using on me for those five days,

not to mention the fact that I'd had nothing to eat or drink during that time and…

well, you can imagine how all that may have left me kinda flaky…"

As Steve nodded in hesitant agreement, Jesse tried to make that agreement complete. 

"Look, Steve, whatever I said at that time… well, I would never have meant it…"

Much of his guilt had gone now, enough for Steve to finally return his friend's smile. 

"I know that, Jess…" he replied, conceding the point with a grateful, brotherly hug.

Another remained, though – one that, for all Jesse's assurances, continued to niggle. "But that doesn't change the fact that you were in danger and you needed my help… and I wasn't there…"

"Steve, neither of us knew what Trask had planned up here…" Jesse pointed out -

totally serious now as he glanced across at his friend, his voice still quiet.

"And what would have happened if you _had_ been here when they grabbed me…?

Hating to sound like an egoist, but… well, it was me they were after, and…

well, God only knows what would have happened to you if you'd got in their way…"

Faced with such simple logic, there was only one thing that Steve could do.

Smile back at his young friend, marvel at his loyalty - and gratefully accept it.

Both then fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they stared up into the night.

It was Jesse who finally broke that silence – with the words Steve had prayed to hear.

"No, Steve, it was Trask and his cronies that did this to me, not you…" 

His voice was still quiet but, Steve noted in proud relief, stronger now - not so fearful. He'd stopped trembling too – another good sign.

"I must have tried to fight them, though… or at least tried to get away from them…" he mused, pensive as he met Steve's eyes. "For them to rough me over, I mean…"

To his surprise, Steve found himself smiling slightly as he nodded his agreement.

Brief and quiet it may have been, but this was the best sign yet that Jesse was starting to come to terms with what had happened to him. 

The barriers were coming down. Now, at last, they could start to make some progress.

"Probably when they first took you…" Steve replied, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Then once they had you… well, as dad said, all they had to do was keep you quiet where no one could find you…"

Jesse nodded – frowning slightly as images of his captivity flashed through his mind.

"A trailer…!" he said, excited now as his traumatised memory finally started to yield.

"I remember, I was tied up on a camp bed in this… well, room with drapes round it… when I first woke up they gagged and blindfolded me so I couldn't see or call out… 

and your dad was right, they kept me… well, pretty much doped up from then on…

but I could feel myself moving and hear traffic when I first came round…"

"That would explain how you ended up in Utah…" Steve agreed, nodding slightly – both angered and horrified that Jesse had been subjected to such a terrifying ordeal.

While just as relieved that the pieces were finally starting to fall into place for him, 

he was anxious not to push his still vulnerable friend too fast too soon.. 

Jesse, naturally, had other ideas. He was on a roll now, finding the answers he craved. And he was determined to make the most of it.

"And it was the ideal place to hide me…" he said, going on before Steve could cut in, " I mean, as far as you were concerned I was still lost somewhere on the mountains.

No one would think to stop an old run of the mill trailer heading out of state…"

In spite of his concerns, Steve couldn't help but smile as he studied his young friend –

all bright eyed, tenacious eagerness as he waited for Steve's reaction.

This was the Jesse they all knew and loved. This was _his_ Jesse…

Yes, those barriers were well and truly down, and Jesse was heading for home. There'd be no stopping him now. Steve's only concern now was keeping up…

"I'll make a detective of you yet…" he said at last, playfully ruffling Jesse's hair. 

Smiling back, Jesse pulled a face at him – turning more serious as he lowered his head.

"Does that include learning to shoot straight…?" he asked, his voice tellingly quiet.

Steve stared at him, puzzled. Before he could answer, however, Jesse beat him to it. 

"I – I can't believe I came so close to shooting your dad…" he murmured –

glancing across at Steve with a smile that held no humour as he added softly,

"Good job I'm such a lousy shot…"

Steve continued to stare at him for several moments, trying to think what to say.

His dad was, he knew, a father figure to many people – none more so than Jesse.

Although he'd saved Mark's life, and in spite of all Mark's grateful assurances, 

he was clearly still horrified by how close he'd come to killing him.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. The final hurdle, a tricky one at that.

And one which, if the tension he now felt in Jesse's shoulder was anything to go by, 

was harbouring a hell of a lot of anger.

One way or another, that anger had to come out – carefully, though. _Very_ carefully.

"Jess, you weren't responsible for that…" he said gently – relieved, pleased even, when he saw some of that simmering anger start to flare in Jesse's eyes.

__

Come _on_, _buddy_… he silently thought. _Get_ _mad_, _Jess_. _Get_ _even_…

"Damn it, Steve, that's the whole point…!" Jesse said at last, his voice rising.

Hurling a stone into the undergrowth, he didn't see the relief fleet across Steve's face.

As a second swiftly followed, so that smile of relief widened.

"That's just it, Steve…" he went on, yet another rock feeling the full force of his fury. 

More and more followed, hurled in time to where his anger finally boiled over.

"I _wasn't_ responsible…! Trask was ! He had me _drugged_ up to my _eyeballs_,

pointing that _gun_ at your _father_, and there wasn't a _damn_ thing I could _do_ about it…!"

The tirade then stopped – partly because Jesse was now too agitated to continue,

partly because he'd run out of rocks.

Steve, however, was much happier as he placed his hand back on Jesse's shoulder – noting with quiet satisfaction that pretty much all of that tension had disappeared.

"Yes there was, Jesse…" he said at last, smiling as he went on to gently explain.

"You saw him about to shoot my dad and you were in control enough to stop him…"

As he spoke, he could see Jesse's eyes widen in puzzled, startled surprise.

Seeing the beginnings of a tentative smile, Steve felt a massive weight lift from him. The message was getting through. That soul destroying anger was losing its grip.

Just to make sure, though, he gently turned Jesse around to face him fully –

stressing his words where he needed to most, as Jesse had done just moments before.

"You _were_ in control, Jesse. You _saved_ my father's _life_…"

Jesse was still staring at him, thankfully calm now as he considered Steve's words.

Finally the smile grew wider, a little sheepish though as Jesse shrugged his shoulders.

"I've never shot anyone before…" he explained, hesitant now as he added softly,

"I mean, I'm a doctor, Steve… I've taken an oath to save lives, not take them…"

Now it was Steve's turn to look surprised - by something that none of them, 

not even his father, had even considered.

He should have thought of this sooner, he thought, wryly chastising himself.

He was a detective, after all, trained and expected to spot the most subtle of clues.

Trained, also, to use a gun – to shoot to kill if necessary.

Jesse hadn't – and Steve could only imagine what a shock that must have been to him.

As Jesse had said, he'd been trained to save lives rather than take them.

Aware that Jesse was watching him, waiting for his reaction, he smiled and nodded.

"I know that, Jess…" he said, hugging him closer as he added softly, "Even so…"

To his relief, Jesse was already smiling at him - sensing what he was trying to say.

Their eyes met, a glance shared between grateful and compassionate blue –

carrying that unique understanding which had grown so quickly between them, 

and which made them such an unbeatable team.

It was Steve who finally broke a companionable, thankfully easier silence.

"As for learning to shoot straight… well, let's put it this way, you got the right guy…

took him out in one shot, negated the threat with no injuries to innocent bystanders…"

As Jesse grinned and nodded, Steve knew they'd finally cleared that one last hurdle.

Able now to lighten the mood a little, he then cast his friend a fondly teasing wink.

"You know, Jess, you could teach the guys at the academy a thing or too…" he said,

making a show of looking around before explaining to his amused, intrigued friend. 

"Between you, me and that owl up there, some of them couldn't hit a house…"

"Really…?" Jesse's eyes widened, before a look of comical horror crossed his face.

"Gee, that's really… reassuring…"

Totally unfazed, Steve grinned back at him – enjoying this moment just as much,

but sensing by the way Jesse now stared up at the sky again that he was still troubled.

"He really covered all the bases, didn't he…?" he said at last, sadly shaking his head.

"I mean, setting me up here, kidnapping me, turning me against Mark and you and…"

The smile then faded considerably, the voice quiet once more as he lowered his head.

"I said a lot of crazy and stupid things to him, Steve… to you, too, and… and…"

"And you're not going to tell me that you meant any of them…" Steve cut in gently, sympathising with him entirely but determined not to lose precious ground now –

that determination compelling him to continue before Jesse could answer him.

"Look, Jess, you said it yourself just now – Trask had covered all his bases,

right down to turning you against anyone who realised what he was doing to you…"

At Jesse's rueful smile, Steve grinned – confident enough now to gently tease him.

"So, Mr Detective, what does that tell you about that guilt trip you just went on…?"

To his relief the rueful smile widened into an all out, if still slightly embarrassed grin.

"That it sucked…" he conceded, with the notorious Travis deadpan innocence.

"I couldn't have put it better myself…" Steve observed, just as dryly –

joining his friend in a prolonged fit of wonderful, tension breaking laughter.

"So what now…?" Jesse asked at last, once they'd more or less regained control.

"Well…" Steve replied, feigning great indecision as he blew on his fingers. 

"We could either stay here all night and risk freezing our butts on this bench seat,

or we could go inside to a roaring fire, Amanda's flapjacks and a big pot of coffee…"

The face that Jesse pulled in response was priceless - as was the change in his eyes.

Bright and clear, full of life and mischief – and, at last, those eyes were smiling.

"Sounds good to me…" he agreed - the mention of food having its usual effect.

Bouncing to his feet, he then regarded his still seated friend with a wicked grin. 

"Need a hand, old chap…?"

The advantage disappeared, however, the second that Steve stood beside him.

"Need a box, shortstop…?" he shot back, his grin growing wider as, not surprisingly, that of his friend curiously vanished.

"Touché…" Jesse sighed – soon smiling again as Steve's hand settled on his shoulder. 

All teasing aside, they knew the crisis that had nearly ruined their friendship was over. Friends, partners and LAPD's most unlikely double act were, at last, back in business. About to comment further, Jesse's face then disappeared behind a cavernous yawn. While clearly amused, Steve could also see the tiredness behind Jesse's rueful smile. Remembering his father's advice that Jesse still needed to rest, he grinned back.

"Or we could even opt for plan B…" he suggested with a casually persuasive wink.

As Jesse frowned sleepily at him, Steve grinned while setting the scene with his hand. "We hit the sack instead and treat ourselves to a good old fashioned midnight feast…" 

"Sounds great…" Jesse agreed, allowing himself to be steered gently back inside – 

a measure of just how tired he was that Steve was even allowed to do so.

By the time he reached his room and his bed, he barely had the energy to fall into it.

Unable to resist teasing him, Steve dropped down to his heels beside Jesse's bed – meeting sleepily puzzled eyes with a broad, mischievous grin.

"Sure you don't want me to check for… well, you know, snakes or skunks or…

maybe the odd little Martian…?" he asked, making a show of doing just that.

When Jesse didn't reply, Steve naturally assumed that his friend was already asleep.

So it was with some surprise, not to mention exasperated amusement, when, 

as he looked up to check, a pair of rolled up socks hit him square on the head.

"I'll take that as a no…" he added dryly, laughing though as he tossed them back – the welcome sound of Jesse's albeit weary laughter following him into the kitchen.

Naturally keen for some friendly payback, he made the coffee in record time – 

but, it seemed, not fast enough.

A whole army of Martians could have entered his room, even bounced on his bed, 

and Jesse Travis wouldn't have known a thing about it.

"Jesse, if you hate my coffee that much you only had to say…" he sighed wryly, shaking his head as he carefully draped a second blanket around his friend – 

watching him for a moment before, gently patting his shoulder, he left him to sleep.

Aware now of how tired he was too, Steve was all ready to hit his own bed.

First, though, he had a phone call to make.

"Hey, dad, it's just me… yeah, I figured you'd still be up… no, nothing's wrong… and I know it's late, but… well, I figured you'd like to turn in on some good news…

it's over, dad… we've talked it all out and Jesse and I are fine, everything's fine…"

Watching Jesse sleep from the doorway of his room, Steve smiled as he added softly,

"Hailing frequencies are now open…"


End file.
